


When Lightning Strikes

by BaraMononobe



Series: Emperor and Conqueror [1]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Alternate History, First Fanwork, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaraMononobe/pseuds/BaraMononobe
Summary: A story about how the fates of two of the greatest heroes that ever lived became inextricably intertwined by an impossible and brief encounter between the desert dunes.
Relationships: Iskandar | Rider/Napoleon Bonaparte | Archer, Iskandar/Napoleon Bonaparte
Series: Emperor and Conqueror [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869370
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	When Lightning Strikes

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! You can call me Jay and I just wanna say thank you to everyone who stumbles upon this work and finds it enjoyable. This is my absolute first fanfic and I'm both excited and nervous about it.
> 
> One of the reasons to embark in this small project has to do with improving my writing skills in English. This is not my native language and though I feel I have very a decent level, it's likely you'll find some issues within the text (I hope not too many). Even though a wonderful friend is helping me edit, some mistakes might still slip by. I'll appreciate any comment suggesting ways to improve my writing, so feel free to give constructive criticism!
> 
> The other reason for this fic is my obsession with this pairing. I truly love Napoleon and Iskandar's interactions and the bit of lore that binds them together and since I am not good at drawing and I had too many ideas about them in my head, writing seemed like a good way to contribute to the fandom. I hope that even if you don't like the pairing I'm writing about, you are able to enjoy the story I have planned.
> 
> The tags will change as I progress with the story to avoid spoilers and it's gonna take a while to complete it (a slow burn is the best after all), so I hope you stick with me until the end! It should not go above Mature since I want to try and keep it as SFW as I can, but I will be posting in parallel other Mature/Explicit fics that tie in to the story at different points.
> 
> Besides my still unnamed editor, I wanna thank my friends ArcherXRider and Loboke for hearing me ramble and giving me a lot of cool ideas to incorporate into the story.
> 
> Well, that's it for now. I hope you enjoy the first chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments!

* * *

Night fell across the desert, drawing out long shadows from the dunes around. A deceptive calm flooded the area as the sand soaked up the blood from the battle that morning. A hot summer breeze spun gently through the clear sky, carrying along the ring of celebration from the camp below. As the heat dissipated, so did their fear. The silhouettes of the pyramids in the distance stood unshaken and peaceful, a monument to greatness, a reminder of victory branded into their minds. Not even the inevitable dangers lurking in the future could take away the excitement in the voices of the men, fighting in unknown territories, far from their homes and families. Their faith in the General was unwavering.

The charisma of the man was impossible to overlook. He was able to move the hearts of his troops simply with words alone, but the medals, titles, and countless theatrics on his part made nearly every man give him their all, in and out of battle. And what about those few too clever to fall for his boisterous personality? His genius on the battlefield was always quick to convince them that he was worthy to follow. The talented strategist was unrivaled, the latest victory under the Egyptian sun yet another piece of evidence to his accomplishments.

As the soldiers continued indulging in their reprieve, avoiding thoughts of the morning when the campaign would resume with the rising sun, a lone figure stepped from the largest pyramid. He looked briefly to the night sky, basking in the glory of the stars. The breeze played with the cigar smoke slipping from his slightly parted lips, sending tendrils curling around his chiseled jaw. His battle-sculpted body was illuminated briefly by the moon as he shifted to lean against the pyramid. The sweet smell of tobacco eased the mind of the young Napoleon Bonaparte as he reflected on the events of the past few months.

After the Italian campaigns he returned home a hero of the Republic, and therefore, a threat. The scheming of the French Directory could be tasted in the air. This thirst for power of the weak, measly old men meant he was to be sent away from Paris almost as quickly as he returned. But they were no match for Napoleon. He already had plans in motion to outmaneuver the Directory and get approval for his current campaign, whose decisiveness would strike such a blow against the British Empire that nothing could hinder the expansion of the Republic through the world.

Another reason for embarking on the current was a personal mission, one he kept silent and close to his heart. He was going to leave his mark on this world. His name would be on the lips of men for a thousand generations. He wanted to become the hero they all looked up to, the same way he admired and studied those who came before him. Mighty Leonidas I of Sparta, the embodiment of courage, who made the impossible happen in the Battle of Thermopylae holding back for 3 days an army of 100,000 Persians with only 300 Spartans, at the cost of his own life. Julius Caesar, the unparalleled tactician and pillar to one of the largest and greatest empires in human history. And, finally, the man who conquered half of the known world, Alexander the Great. A hero who burned so brightly, both friend and foe united under his banner. It was this great man, Iskandar, King of Conquerors, who taught him that conquering not only meant overpowering foes with military might but also required winning the hearts of the defeated if one wanted to ensure prosperity. Napoleon would finally reunite the world as the old hero once did. Following the footsteps of the Conqueror himself was just the beginning of the journey.

The soft sound of leather soles on the dry sand alerted the General of someone’s approach. He tensed up, ready for a fight if it came to it when one of his foot soldiers rounded the corner. His shoulders relaxed but the furrow in his brow remained. Tonight he was not to be bothered so that he could spend it in the pyramid chamber, soaking up the centuries of history seeping from the ancient structure. Taking a final puff from the cigar stub, he let it drop from his mouth and grounded it into the sand as he started to walk towards the soldier.

“What is it, soldier? I was not to be disturbed tonight. Is everything alright at the camp?” said Napoleon to the man standing at attention in front of him.

“Apologies General, but your aide ordered me to come and fetch you. We just received a warning from some locals that the weather could change suddenly, so it’s best for you to return to the camp. They are worried about a possible thunderstorm.” The man’s expression suddenly twisted with concern. “This desert is a fickle thing.”

“Hmpf! Is that right? You need not worry, we won’t be defeated by such a menial thing. Our job here has just begun!” said Napoleon with a bright smile and giving the other man a pat on the back with a bit too much force, making him wince. “Go back and tell them I’ll return soon. I just need a bit more time alone.”

“Will you be alright by yourself, sir?”. The soldier regained some confidence at the words of Napoleon but still worry flicked across his face. “What if the enemy comes back for revenge?”

The young General let out a stifled laugh. “They wouldn’t dare, believe me!” Napoleon’s smile suddenly turned into a wolfish grin as he patted the flintlock pistol at his hip. “And should they try, I am more than capable of handling them! Don’t worry about me, get back to your drinking and celebration, you earned it today. I’ll be there celebrating with you soon.”

  
  


A gust of wind ruffled the auburn hair of the General and made the loose white shirt he was wearing flutter open, exposing the broad chest. The soldier blushed and with a dip of his head, turned back towards the camp and walked off with a quickening pace. Napoleon watched him disappear into the night. He turned his gaze back to the pyramids, soaking in their majesty as he began to light another cigar. The poorly rolled tobacco leaves burned unevenly, but they would do for now. It wouldn’t be until his return to Paris that he could taste the sweet smoke from his favorite cigars. His regal features turned distraught for a brief moment, a sour taste filled his mouth, as his mind brought painful memories of his beloved wife. The rumours were quick to spread of her being supposedly seen out late in the evening with known bachelors. She had seen him depart from the port, whispering her love into his ear, but at the same time she had been more distant than ever. Was there any truth to those claims? He didn’t want to believe it. With the first accusations he reacted angrily; even at the slightest hint of the alleged infidelities, but now his heartbeat quickened and his chest clenched painfully whenever the subject was brought up. Was this a sign that he actually gave credit to the stories, no matter how much he denied them? It wasn’t even a matter of his damaged pride, he just loved her so much and that turned every passing rumour into a sharpened knife slipping silently into his heart.

After the second cigar had burned down to a nub and was disposed like the one before, he allowed his feet to carry him slowly in the direction of the camp. His face was now devoid of the grief brought by the previous thoughts and showed nothing but resolution. He was strong. No, he had to be strong to ensure his soldiers gave their all. He was the pillar of the army and would not suffer defeat until he had fulfilled all of his goals.

The sound of thunder in the distance brought his attention to the sky behind the pyramids. Apparently the locals had been right and a thunderstorm had crept up on them. Still far away from camp he decided to hasten his pace. It was preposterous to think that his life could end by mere lightning but, as sensible as he was, he was not willing to risk it. Overconfidence was the bane of fools. He had not gotten to the place he was now by being reckless.

The time between each strike of lightning and each crash of thunder disappeared as the sky lit up the desert with an eerie blue light. Tingling spread across his body as the power above him made the air feel heavy, worry spurred Napoleon broke into a sprint, the camp being still a kilometer away. With the second fall of his foot, lightning struck directly in his path, blinding him to the world and making his skin itch from the surrounding static-filled air.

Blinking, his eyes slowly recovered from the shock. Confusion and fear kept him frozen as he stared ahead. Like a vision from the gods, an imposing man stood before him, dressed like the pharaohs depicted in the hieroglyphs he stared at an hour earlier. In his right hand he held an ornate gold scepter. His head was adorned with an exquisite headpiece and the pure white skirt flapped in the stormy wind. His skin was darker than Napoleon’s and decorated in endless battle scars. When Napoleon’s gaze rose to his face, his eyes were locked. A straight, prominent nose hovered above his strong jaw, his wild beard extended in fiery waves below, and piercing, ruby eyes stared right back at the general. The man in front of him stood in all the glory of the marble sculptures dotted through Paris, the ones depicting gods and heroes from ancient Greece and Rome - minus the clothing, of course.

Time stood still, frozen like the french General. The apparition was looking directly at him, a slightly puzzled expression painted across his regal face. The strength of his gaze kept Napoleon’s feet nailed in place, every muscle tensed but unmovable. He felt growing pressure in his chest as his eyes burned from the effort of keeping them open. Napoleon knew a blink was all that was needed for the man in front of him to disappear forever and he fought against the impulse with every fiber of his being. At the same time his mind was processing the strange phenomena before him, driving quickly towards an impossible conclusion. The raging storm, the pharaoh clothing, the place they were standing on, and the man’s features all pointed to an unique possibility. His most admired hero. A direct descendant of Zeus, as legend would have it. The one proclaimed Pharaoh and son of Amun in the same place but centuries apart. He whose entire life became immortalized in legends passed from generation to generation: Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, the one and only Alexander the Great.

The excitement of the revelation brought a grin to his face, but at the first hint of knowing the hero vanished in a whirl of dust. Not a single word was shared between the two. His vision, no longer tunneled by the strange sight, showed the lights of the camp in the distance. His ears could once again pick up the sounds of the ongoing storm and the yelling of soldiers searching for cover. He stood for a minute, still unable to move while his brain attempted to make sense of what had just occurred. It was not possible, but it was unmistakably real. The pressure in his chest lingered and his heart was beating furiously. A loud crack of thunder snapped him back to reality. Wondrous as that moment had been, he had things to do. His full attention was required. Getting struck by lightning and dying while daydreaming near Cairo was not how his story was going to end. As he found movement again, the vision remained burned in the back of his mind like a sign of encouragement. He had just seen the biggest inspiration for embarking on this adventure standing before him, almost like the man himself was telling him to push forward without hesitation and doubts. He had to give it his all. Here and now, in Egypt, and anywhere else that his life would take him.

Napoleon broke into a run towards camp, his usually stoic face transformed into a boyish grin as newfound determination sent his heart beating wildly with excitement for what was yet to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think about this work on the comment section or send me a DM on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BaraMononobe)!


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